Window to the Past
by Bizzy
Summary: Alternate Universe what if Jekyll did not end his life with killing himself, and instead returned to as normal a life he could? Original characters. Read and Review D
1. Prolouge and Author's Note

~*The Evil Disclaimer: I don't own Jekyll and Hyde. I am not Robert Louis Stevenson and never have been (nor never will be). PLEASE grasp this concept, I don't want to have to post this for every single itty bitty chapter (it'll get kinda annoying.) Erm.PLEASE read and review, this is my first fanfiction that I'm posting and I'm kind of scared to so.when you read it, please review it!! Thanks =)  
  
Window to the Past I never look at the sky like I used to before. When I lived with Miss Lucy and Miss Nellie, I would watch the sky shed darkness over London, and then watch the rainfall. When I was a little child, Miss Lucy would hold me when the thunder clapped so loud I thought the sky was falling. But now there's no Miss Lucy to hold me when the sky is falling. I haven't watched the rain in ages. The sky used to represent the beginning of a new day, the end of an old one. As the phrase goes, 'the sky's the limit'. Now, the sky represents only one thing to me: current weather patterns. By the time I turned seven years old, I learned that family and friends are pointless accomplices that you grow to love, then leave you. After Edward Hyde attacked Miss Lucy, I thought the world would end. After losing my mother and father, Miss Lucy Harris and Miss Nellie Harris became figures somewhat like my parents. So did Doctor Henry Jekyll and his wife, Emma. Until Dr. Jekyll started to tell me I couldn't come to see him. Emma I only met once, and their son-rumored to be my very age-was never seen by my eyes. As for a certain Mister Edward Hyde, I care not for the man. He was the one who made Miss Lucy leave, and, that aside, he tried to kill me as well. I suppose I've come to a turning point. At fifteen years old, I've received word that Miss Lucy is coming back. And that Doctor Henry Jekyll is seeing patients again. Will I keep running? I'm just not quite sure. 


	2. 46 Harley Street

Mr. Poole turned to me and said, quietly, "a young lady to see you, sir…though I hesitate to call her a _lady_ for she isn't dressed as such."

"Send her away, Poole."

"I don't know how she knew you were here, sir. She mentioned something about a Miss Lucy—"

"Lucy?" the words caught in my throat, "I'll see her."

"Dr. Jekyll?" a soft, plaintive voice calls from the doorway. Deep blue eyes locked steadily onto mine, a stray lock of hair draped delicately down the girl's tan-coloured face. She was frighteningly familiar. As Mr. Poole had said, she certainly didn't seem to be dressed as a young lady. She was clothed in a brown peddler skirt, a faded blouse that hung limp over her frame. Yet those eyes, I _know_ I've seen them somewhere; deep, deep indigo-coloured with a gentle, warm sparkle in the center…

"Good afternoon, miss. What brings you here?" I ask her, trying to control myself. I know I've seen her before. I do believe she was a patient before, but _which_ patient?

"I came to see you, sir."

I looked at her, the colour in her cheeks, and frowned, "I don't believe I have your name…"

She smiled, and her entire face lights up. There was a hint of surprise in her eyes, "I'm surprised, doctor. I thought you might remember me," she stopped, her sentence trailing off. "It's Elise Bennet. You took care of me such a long time ago, when Miss Lucy found me sick in the Red Rat."

I stared at her. She's changed. When I first met the child, she was seven years old and dangerously ill. Lucy brought her in with a dreadfully high fever. The child had been such a pale thing. Though pale, she wasn't undernourished. Now, she's skinnier than a board (spare an odd lump around her tummy) and has a coffee-coloured skin tone. Her hair seems to have grown darker and her eyes a bit more piercing. Much changed. But I was appalled. Edward had attacked her…killed her…yet here she is. Living, breathing, and extending her small hand to shake mine. I took it and brought it to my lips, kissing it gently.

She didn't flinch despite the breach of conduct. Much changed.

"How…I heard that Hyde…" I stutter. Her gaze never leaves my face. After what he, no, I, did to her—_how is she alive_?

"A miracle," she says quietly, "I was to live, Dr. Jekyll. And after all these years, I gathered the courage to come back…and thank you. For everything you did for me when I was a little girl."

I simply stared, a lump rising in my throat.

She wiped a few tears from her eyes, "after Miss Lucy left, I was afraid to come see you. I knew you'd send me to America to live with my aunt, and I honestly didn't want to go. I was scared."

"I wouldn't have sent you anywhere…" I respond. "Well, what brings you back, after all these years?"

"Now I will admit to it. I am seeking your assistance, doctor," she says quietly. Her face suddenly drained of all colour.

"What's the matter, Elise?" I ask, motioning for her to seat herself.

"I…" she begins, her voice soft, "I am with child."

With child! She's fifteen years old, for goodness's sake!

She suddenly grew pink with embarrassment. "It was not meant to happen—certainly not. I was attacked and then forced. I'm dreadfully scared…"

"Elise, come here," I say. She once told me, when I was keeping an eye on her for Lucy, that I was like her own father, only much better. I suppose that now more than ever, she needs a father. Or, at least, someone who will act like it. She got up, trembling, and came over to me. Her lower lip was shaking, her eyes brimming with tears. I beckoned her to come a pace closer, so she was directly in front of me. I then put my arms around her and embraced her, patting her on the head.

I think I scared her, for she jumped a bit before starting to calm down. I stroked her hair and let her sob, rocking her a bit. No point in chastising her; she'd learn in a few months the results of her actions. Besides, I remember little Elise as a very responsible little girl—more so a mature adult than a little girl. I don't think she would have done this to herself on purpose. Her story is believable, especially if she still lives in the East End of London. I'm surprised by her speech, though. Aside from her accent, her grammar and pronunciation are impeccable.

"Now, when did you find out about your delicate condition?" I ask warily. She is still trembling somewhat, but she doesn't seem as upset.

"Early this week, sir," she whispers, "I have not experienced my usual cycle for the past five months, and that's a dreadfully long time."

I nod slowly. She is definitely with child. "Well, Elise, you are five months pregnant, and I would like to see you tonight for dinner with my friends, the Uttersons, and my wife. Might you come?" I ask. I get the impression that she isn't eating, and she just needs support now. I think her seeing my wife, Emma—who has a tad less than a month remaining to her term—will help settle her nerves. They might talk about their child-carrying experiences (which I certainly cannot relate to) and calm each other's nerves.

"I…can…but…" she says quietly, smoothing her hair compulsively, "I will be here."

"I will see you then, Elise."

The Uttersons are coming for dinner tonight as well, and Emma is greatly excited. I forgot to mention that Elise is the same little Elise that I used to ramble on about for hours at a time. Emma found my prattling about the girl quite irritating. I suppose I just won't tell her that little Elise and this Elise are one in the same. Until later (much later).

The bell rang right on time, and I knew it was nobody other than Gabrielle Utterson, a middle-aged woman who was quite obsessed with punctuality. Beside her stood my friend, John Utterson. I smiled to them and gestured for them to sit after we all exchanged greetings. Gabrielle dressed in black—as she always does (Gabrielle is quite the matron, though John refuses to admit it). Emma wore a lavender colour that complimented her status as wife and a soon-to-be mother. We waited about a quarter hour, and Elise had still not arrived. I began to worry. Did she get lost? Perhaps she was just afraid. Did something happen to her? She does live in East End and it can be dangerous there.

I had just begun to express my worry in a low whisper to Emma when there came a soft knock at the door. Poole ushered a young woman into the room and I stood, greeting Elise with a smile. She attempted to smile back, yet she seemed all but paralyzed with fear. Dressed in a deep blue dress that agreed completely with her eyes, she looked as though she had fallen from the sky. Emma got to her feet and hobbled over to her. "Elise?"

Elise nodded timidly.

"Well it's a pleasure to finally see you! Come, sit," Emma says. "This is John Utterson, and his wife, Gabrielle Utterson." Emma smiles kindly, "and I'm Emma."

"Thank you, Mrs. Jekyll," Elise says, taking a seat and not making a move to speak once again.

"Good evening, Ms…" Gabrielle begins, realizing she didn't know the girl's last name.

"Bennet," I prompt.

"Good evening, Ms. Bennet. It's a pleasure to meet you," Gabrielle says. John nods, "pleasure to meet you, Ms. Bennet."

Elise nodded, "the pleasure is mine, Mr. and Mrs. Utterson."

We made idle conversation, though Elise managed to keep herself mainly out of it. After dinner, Gabrielle played a piece at the piano—a waltz by Beethoven—while she played this, Emma and I danced. When I took the keyboard, I played a waltz myself, particularly so that the Uttersons would have their go to dance.

After the Uttersons left, Emma went out and simply asked, "where are you staying, Elise?"

Call it motherly instinct if you will, but I don't know how Emma would even come to the conclusion that Elise might not have anywhere to go.

"A building in East End, Mrs. Jekyll," Elise says quietly.

"Perhaps you'd like to stay the night here? It's very late, and Henry said you needed another checkup tomorrow morning. Besides, I think I'd like to talk to you."


	3. Truth

_Emma Carew-Jekyll_

Elise is scared. I can tell. I think she thinks that I'm going to scold her for being pregnant at fifteen years of age. Well, I'm not. I'm just going to talk to her. Henry attempted to mention her nonchalantly a while before the dinner began. He said that she had no parents. I get the impression that Henry is trying to be a father to the girl. I suppose she needs a complete pair, correct? Besides, Henry said that the only other adult in her life that he was aware of was a Miss Lucy Harris, who had disappeared eight years ago. Murdered by Hyde.

"Well, we should talk," I said gently to her. Tired as I am, I want to have this conversation. Tonight.

"Why did you lie to me, Elise? I can see it in your eyes. You aren't staying in a building in East End, are you?" I press. She's not just going to talk, I can tell. I hate to press her like this but we won't get anywhere just staring at each other.

"I…yes ma'am. That is true," Elise whispers.

"Why did you lie?"

"I was afraid," she replies quietly, "you have been so kind to me already, I couldn't imply that I had no place to stay. It's…I've lived off the streets for years, Mrs. Jekyll. I have no problem with it now."

"Elise," I say with a bit of sternness in my voice, "you must realize that you are with a child now, in a delicate condition. I don't know how you've lived on the streets, but you must understand that living like that is not only a risk to your own health, but to the health of your child as well."

Elise lets out a muffled sigh as she covers her face with her hands. After a moment or so, she removed her hands, took in a deep, shuddering breath, and looked at me with two eyes that seemed to pierce my very soul. She then nodded just slightly.

I became aware of eyes on my back, and turned around to see Daniel, my only child as of late, staring down at us from the steps. Elise's curious eyes followed my gaze and stared at the lad. When he moved to come downstairs, she jumped and knocked over her chair. Daniel frowned, came down the stairs a bit faster, and offered to help her up.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to startle you. Did I startle you?" he asks. The hyperactivity of a 15-year-old boy is amazing. _Especially_ when it comes to seeing his reaction to a 15-year-old girl.

She seemed thoroughly startled, and hesitantly let him help her up. I peeked up the steps and spied Henry, a grin on his face. He must've sent Daniel downstairs on some pointless errand, knowing the girl would catch his eye. Clever idea, I must admit. He catches my gaze and winks at me.

"Yes," she whispers.

"I'm so sorry! I really didn't mean to, honest. I didn't mean to, did I, mother?" Daniel says, turning to me with pleading eyes. He certainly doesn't _want_ to have purposely startled her, hm?

"Of course not. Oh, Elise," I say, realizing with a start that she has no idea who Daniel is, "this is my son, Daniel. He's just about your age, if I remember correctly."

Daniel finally extends his hand like a gentleman would, and kissed her hand. I was surprised at that—he despises that act, and flatly refuses to do it no matter how many times he is told to (perhaps Henry talked him into it). "Daniel Jekyll," he says. "I heard you from upstairs—"

"You were _supposed_ to be studying, Daniel," I say sternly.

"Sorry, I couldn't help it," Daniel says, "well, I heard you from upstairs and I wanted to tell you that you _sounded_ real pretty…and then I came down and you _are_ real pretty."

Elise flushes brightly, "t-thank you," she whispers.

With a gaze at Daniel and the starry look in his eyes, I get up and hobble up the steps with assistance from Annie. Perhaps they will become friends.

Tomorrow I will tell Elise of Gabrielle's invitation to the small party at her house tomorrow night. It is a couple sort of party. And I don't think I will have to worry about Elise going alone.


	4. Dance the night away

Doctor Henry Jekyll 

Just as I had expected, Daniel was _very_ willing to escort Elise to the Uttersons' party. In fact, he came to me just a few moments before I called Elise down for her checkup, asking what I thought would make him look the most handsome. I do believe he really wants to impress the girl!

Well, Elise's checkup went well. All is right with her, though she's starting to not take mornings well. When I spoke to her this morning, I mentioned the termination process. She seemed tempted, but then stated, softly, "I can't take another's life. Even if the child isn't borne yet. That would be murder."

I wasn't surprised at her reaction at all; in fact, I must say that I commend her for it. I can't believe that a girl her age would even dare go through such a dangerous thing as pregnancy, labor and delivery. It can be very dangerous. I'm very scared that things will not go well for Elise. I can tell by her simple size, stature and manner—she is fragile. Almost like a porcelain doll. Labor and delivery of a child can be very dangerous, and she is so fragile, so gentle, I almost fear she might not be able to survive it. Childbirth is dangerous; I almost lost my beloved Emma to it.

When Elise mentioned her fear about going to the Uttersons' party tonight, I was a bit puzzled.

"Why would you be afraid to go to their party, Elise?"

"Well," she began, flushing somewhat, "I suppose…I want to look nice for Da—er, someone. And I'm afraid I can't. Besides, if I don't come off as presentable it won't look very pleasant to your friends and I couldn't embarrass you, not even accidentally."

I smiled at that comment, "Emma will help you, and you needn't worry. You're a very pretty young woman, you know that." I really do think she is, too. She's got soft, delicate features, deep blue eyes that can mesmerize you with ease, a natural flush to her cheeks. She's very pretty.

Then she pitched a question to me that I would not have expected, never expected. "Could you teach me, Dr. Jekyll?"

I was, to say the least, surprised. "Teach you what, Elise?"

She looked at the ground, "lots of things," she says, struggling to find the right words, "to read and write, maybe even some science."

I was taken aback. I've never met a young woman—especially her age—who was interested in science. "You're interested in science, are you?"

She nods, almost ashamed, "I don't know if I could understand it though."

I lifted Elise's chin to look at me, staring right into her face, and her eyes locked onto mine. "I think you could. Would you like to start learning tomorrow?"

"I'd have to help repay you for it…I…I'll help you here, or I'll help Mr. Poole clean or…I'll do something…" she says quietly.

"Elise, Elise, you needn't—"

"No, I…I must. I'll do something, I promise. Promise me I can, in return? Please?" she pleads.

"If you really want to, ok…" I say, taken aback.

She smiled at me, a wide, genuine, excited smile, "thank you!" Impulsively, it seemed, she threw her arms around me, then jumped and backed up, "thank you so much…yes…tomorrow."

Daniel did escort Elise, who went in a dark blue dress (the same one as the night before, though cleaned), and Daniel wore a black suit, looking almost perfect in it. Almost, only because he was bright pink throughout the ride to the Uttersons. Emma very excited to see her friends again, and especially tonight, for it was a music night.

Emma was going to sing. I play piano and I'm going to play a piece. Daniel says he wants to play a piece on his clarinet, but he says he's got something he wants to sing. When asked, Elise said she might sing something, if she feels up to it (she seems so nervous). If I didn't know better, I'd say Elise and Daniel were scheming something.

"Good evening, Henry, Emma! Daniel came, and look, he brought Elise. Hello, hello, come in!" Gabrielle says cheerfully, stepping aside so that everyone could pass through. I'm not sure who I pity more—Daniel or Elise. Elise is clinging to Daniel's arm and must be dragged from place to place, she's so scared, and Daniel; Daniel is the one being clung to.

Dinner went nicely, but when it came time to do our bits of music, Elise seemed unable to get her bearings. Emma tried hard to reassure the girl, but little came of it. Even Daniel whispering in her ear for a solid quarter-hour was to no avail.

Daniel was first to play his piece, and I'm not quite sure what it was. Emma sang the _Ave Maria_ for us—it's one of her favourites. Gabrielle was cheerful as well, playing a fast-paced piece titled _Sonate Pathetique_. I myself played _Winter_ from the Four Seasons by Vivaldi. John played a concerto for violin by Haydn. And last, but not least, Elise took her stand by the piano.

Daniel was next to her, with a wide smile on his face. "This counts as a song I did, Mrs. Utterson, because I had to convince Elise to sing it with me. She's got her own song to sing, she does. But after this." Daniel handed Gabrielle a few sheets of paper, and Gabrielle smiled, "what a wonderful idea."

It turned out the two had planned to sing a duet. I couldn't hear Elise, she sang very softly and she was the accompaniment in the duet.

When Elise finally took the stage on her own, she was beyond panicking. She was white as a sheet and trembling. Gabrielle gave her a reassuring smile. Gabrielle began to play, and Elise began to sing.

Elise sang Amazing Grace, for she claimed it was a piece she sang to herself quietly, and often. I was astounded. Elise has a captivating mezzo-soprano voice that reminds me of a bird singing. She seems to fall into the music. 

And when the song was over, she seemed to sway on the spot, putting her hands on the piano she stood beside to keep herself balanced. It almost looked like she was bracing herself from the praise she was getting.

The rest of the evening went swimmingly. Daniel and Elise get along very nicely, and they enjoy talking quietly (after music, they sat towards the back of the room, heads together for a near hour).

Home that evening and in the dead of night, I heard a scream and then someone sobbing. Getting up, I dashed out of the room. At that point I heard the soft pattering of bare feet running across pavement, a door slam (the door to my own home), and someone else headed in the opposite direction of the alleged screamer.

Opening the front door, I saw Elise, slumped against the wall, seemingly unconscious. I hurried over to her and scooped her up off the ground, bringing her back inside.

_What_ had gone on?

Aghast, I spent the night tending to Elise. Her head was bleeding—as though she had been hit there several times. When she finally woke, it was nearly dawn. I hadn't even taken the time to bring the girl into the lab; the wound had seemed too terrible to waste the time of transportation.

Deep indigo eyes peered up at me cautiously, and she sat up slowly, looking around. "What…" she began to ask.

I shook my head, "relax now, I'll help you remember later."

At that moment, Daniel came down the steps, holding his head in his hands.

"What's wrong, Daniel?" I ask.

"I've a terrible headache," my son replies, opening his eyes and focusing on Elise, who is struggling to sit up. Suddenly he turned white as a sheet and backed a pace away from her.

"Why do you have a headache?" I question, quirking a brow.

"I don't know. I was feeling terribly ill when I went to sleep last night," he replies, still looking at Elise warily.

"Daniel, come sit down," I say sternly, pointing to the chair next to me.

Daniel did as he was told, no longer eyeballing Elise but looking nervously at me.

"You are the lightest sleeper of the family…do you remember anybody passing through or being in the house last night?"

Daniel thought about it for a moment, "Father," he says, thinking hard, "…I can't remember a thing from last night, starting right after I went to bed. It's strange," he says, "for I woke and my hands were dirty, as though I had been out. Yet I am sure I washed before I went to bed. Am I going mad, Father?"

"Oh, my God," I breathed quietly. Suddenly a realization hit me.

The same concept that had taken place with Mr. Hyde and myself seemed to repeat itself in my son. How, I can't say I'm sure. Yet the scenario is very, very similar to that of what happened between Miss Lucy Harris and Mr. Edward Hyde. A scenario I hate to relive.

"Dr. Jekyll," I suddenly snap back to attention when Elise's soft voice begins to seep into my consciousness.

"Yes, Elise? Is something wrong?" I turn to her. She's whiter than a sheet, trembling a bit, her eyes watering.

"No…" she replies quietly, "it was just odd that I thought I heard Mrs. Jekyll crying from upstairs, and then realized that you might want to know such things, in case you did not hear."

Daniel then snapped to attention himself, "yes, that's why I came down. Mother asked me to find you."

I nodded and patted Elise's shoulder gently, "stay here, all right? And Daniel, rest your head…and keep an eye on her, please. I must make sure your mother is all right."


End file.
